Poetry Forum

Hollow

You bring my favorite tea in the evenings,
bend to kiss the flesh
of my forehead. I cross my legs
at the ankles and thank you.

My hands
reach up for yours- you place
my pink cup on the table.

And I become a ghost
sitting in this chair,
empty eyes staring past you,
behind you, through you to the wall
of the bedroom, unkept.






.

woah. spooky ending. I was expecing a simple lurve ending, but no. You're gone. And yet I don't think you're talking about death, not with that title. It's very effective.

My hands
reach up for yours, you place
my pink cup on the table

better as 2 sentences I'd say, rather than the comma splice.

Ros

the flesh of my forehead

What a peculiar turn of phrase. One of the least fleshy parts of the body, surely?

Nicely turned, but you did try my patience a little in getting there. Rosemary's point is a good one.

B.

Suzanne
I liked this. Like Brian flesh stuck out. I see you need a word there but something simple like top might work. Also felt the stanzas would benefit from a rework.

Also become a ghost or are you already a ghost? I suspect the latter.

Best
Richard

Thanks you Ros, a woah is agreat repsonse.
Thank you B. And Richard...

I have adjusted the line breaks with the hope of clarifying. I hope it worked. ??

Suzanne

It softens flesh, but what about skin instead?

Where's the original gone?

And nooo... I think you need to save the ghost bit for the last verse. Keep those two separate lines in the middle.

Ros

I understood it to be about a relationship that's become passionless, so kissing the flesh of the forehead makes sense in that light. I like the ending on unkept.

And I become a ghost - I'd suggest I am become a ghost

sitting in this chair, - sat rather than sitting?

Not Alzheimers then? I see Ray's reading in the crossed ankles and perhaps the pink cup...

The tea in a pink cup (not any old mug) suggests you are known to the forehead-kisser who seems likely male but could be female. You appear to fade in and fade out but retain the power of staring. You could be dead or merely missing and were once close (lover, sister, child, parent) to the tea bringer. Other than that you don't leave much to go on.Implied romance abruptly set aside you could be s Spirit of the future and the tea-bearing forehead-schmoozing chap could be bribing you for stock market news ....

Lol. Loved that, Bren.

Thank you all. It's fun when a poem is read different ways.
Not about death or alzheimers.

Ray's catch was closest to what the N tried to convey, thus flesh of the forehead, which is barely flesh at all.
Romance eluded to by the bedroom reference.
No full stop between the two hand phrases as i wanted one smooth image of motion.

What do you mean i stretched your patience, B?

Thank you for your replies.
Suzanne

I thought it was a bit plodding. But I've just posted a colossal turd of a poem so what do I know.

Still think flesh is all wrong. Still agree with Ros about the full stop.

B.

Thank for telking.
That is why you are so valued.
Stick with your gut.

Consistency of crit quality is how learners learn.
And you have that.

X

Suzanne wrote: Stick with your gut.

Consistency of crit quality is how learners learn.
And you have that.

X

Gut?

Lol.

Basic knowledge of the craft is assumed.

Yes Richard, I agree. Gut? No Suzanne, no no no.

B.

Lol!

Is it the word or the idea?

I'm worried that you even need to ask.

B.

Ha!!!

Maybe "gut" is too American? I never know.


You are confusing the poor beginners (who might on the off chance read this) that will ask you for the ultimate rule manual so they can write a good poem.


You two go completely with your intellect?

Enough already.

Oh those poor beginners...

B.

You are such a tease.

Flesh is bad. It just is. Really bad.

B.

Hi, Suzanne

An atmospheric poem that was enjoyable up to a point.

The imagery and reflective qualities seem to present a sadness. There's quite a lot going on here
but it's difficult to nail the premise, mainly due to its extensive applicability. That said the poem
is very readable.

Suzanne wrote:Hollow

You bring my favorite tea in the evenings,
bend to kiss the flesh ...'Flesh' has been covered and is a tenuous reference at best.
of my forehead. I cross my legs
at the ankles and thank you. ...this deliberate move piqued my interest.

My hands
reach up for yours- you place
my pink cup on the table. ...you reach, he places. He's ignoring your gesture?

And I become a ghost ...metaphor for 'Hollow'? His lack of interest leaves you hollow.
sitting in this chair,
empty eyes staring past you, ...intro' of hollow methinks.
behind you, through you to the wall
of the bedroom, unkept. ...You have no place in the bedroom and you're resigned to the inevitable.

Well, that's what I'm getting if I ignore the apparition possibility.

Nice feel to this.

Best

JJ






.

Excellent JJ. Thank you. I laughed at "up to a point" it is such a short thing....
And remember the poet is not always the Narrator.


B. Flesh. Ok. Pondering. I'd have to change the whole line because skin isn't good enough.


Skipping down the hall,
Suzanne

Why do you need anything there at all? You're describing a quotidian act, the bringing of a cup of tea accompanied by a dispassionate peck on the head. You don't need anything other than the word forehead, and even that could be cut in half. Flesh is the worst possible word. I've asked all the words they agree.

Suzanne wrote:Flesh ... bad. Worst word in the world of words.

B.